Back to the Future
by WildWitch12
Summary: Sixth years Harry, Ron, and Hermione are ripped from the year 1996 and are transported to the year 1991, where they find themselves trapped in their first-year bodies. Now they must find their way back to the future, without changing the past. I am not JK Rowling
1. Prologue

Prologue

"Don't touch it, Ron!" exclaimed a bushy-haired teenage girl to her red-headed companion.

"Calm down, Hermione. What do you think is gonna happen?"

"Anything! We don't actually know what that thing is."

"I do! It's a gnome-crow. It's used to keep gnomes out of your garden, for those who can afford such luxuries. It's perfectly harmless to humans."

"Is it supposed to be glowing like that?"

"Well… no. But I'm sure it's just some simple charm cast by somebody who got bored. Nothing to worry about."

"They got bored, so they cast a simple charm on that thing and left it behind in the Forbidden Forest?"

Ron opened his mouth to retaliate, but then closed it again. It was always a losing battle, getting in an argument with Hermione. "You've always got to have the last word, haven't you?"

"Erm, I hate to interrupt, but do either of you remember why we're in the Forbidden Forest in the first place?" asked Harry Potter, the third and final member of the trio hat now found themselves out-of-bounds.

"What's the matter with you, Harry? Of course, we were just-" Hermione stopped short. "Why can't I remember?"

"You can't remember? Hermione Granger doesn't know?" Ron summarized, clearly amused.

"Alright then, why don't you tell us why we're here, if your memory is so good?" Hermione suggested.

"How have either of you forgotten? We came out here to… We were just gonna…"

"That's what I thought. Now stop fooling around, this is serious. Why don't we remember? Does anyone even remember walking out here?"

"I can't remember anything before seeing that gnome-crow, or whatever it is. It's like there's a hole in my memory," said Harry. Ron and Hermione admitted to having the same feeling.

"So… Should we leave?" asked Ron.

"No, someone is clearly targeting us," Harry replied.

"All the more reason to leave!" Ron insisted.

"There's clearly some powerful memory charm at work here, it was very selective. If we're able to notice the holes in our memories, I'll bet that was part of the plan."

"Harry's right. We'd probably be playing into their hands if we left," Hermione agreed.

"So, we're just gonna wait around in the middle of the Forbidden Forest while some powerful wizard is after us? That sounds safe!"

"Have you got any better ideas?" asked Harry.

"Wands out," Hermione suggested. The boys obeyed wordlessly.

Silence hung into the air for a few moments, nobody knowing what their next move should be.

"Look, a gnome-crow!" exclaimed the tall, red-headed boy to his friends.

"What's that?" asked the boy in the round glasses. Even now, in his sixth year at Hogwarts, Harry was still feeling the effects of being raised by muggles.

"It's used to scare the gnomes away," Ron explained. "We can't afford to spend money on one at the Burrow when there are so many of us who can go de-gnome the garden by hand. That's what Mum says, anyway."

"Do they always glow like that?" asked Hermione, the final third to the trio.

"I don't think so. It's kind of… pretty like that, though, don't you think?" The glowing object transfixed Ron's eyes as he spoke, the gleam displaying the curiosity on his face.

"Nothing short of gorgeous, Ron."

"Oh, shut up, Harry."

"Ron's right. Such a common object, or, at least, it is in the Wizarding World, the only source of light and beauty in this dark, dangerous forest. I'm sure it's a metaphor for something," Hermione commented.

"Right. Speaking of it being the only source of light… Why haven't any of us cast 'lumos'?" asked Harry.

"I dunno," Ron admitted. "I've already got my wand out and everything! When did I get my wand out?"

Harry and Hermione looked down at their hands and we're shocked to discover that they had their wands out, too. Neither of them could remember drawing their wands.

"This is starting to get weird," Hermione noted.

"Come to think of it, I think it's been weird for a while," said Harry. "Do either of you remember what we're doing out here?"

Suddenly, before either Ron or Hermione had a chance to respond (just for the record, both would have come to the conclusion that they couldn't remember either, had they had time to think about it), the glowing gnome-crow glowed brighter than ever (or, technically, brighter than it had in the trio's living memory which, at this point, takes up a span of about 5 minutes). All three teenagers instinctively lifted their arms in order to shield their eyes from the brightness.

"That can't be good," Ron observed.

"Run!" Harry exclaimed. And they did.

"Look on the bright side," suggested Ron's punny remark as the trio dodged trees and tried not to trip over tree roots that they wouldn't have been able to see in the dim had it not been for the light they were currently running away from. "None of us need to bother with casting 'lumos' now."

"Not the time, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed between gulps of air, her breathing quickening with her pulse.

Harry had just begun to spare a thought (the rest of his thoughts were in survival mode) to think about how his friends still managed to be themselves, even in the midst of a crisis, when the light became even brighter, and continued to get brighter until all anyone could see was blinding whiteness. Knowing that continuing to run was pointless if he couldn't see where he was going (a lesson he learned the hard way after running into a tree), Harry sunk to the ground, rubbing his forehead.

"Is everyone alright?" Harry called into the brightness. "Ron? Hermione?"

There was no reply, so Harry had no way of knowing if his friends were two meters away or a hundred. The ground, the one sturdy thing that Harry was sure of at the moment, began to shake violently. A rumbling sound filled his ears, making it impossible for him to hear anything else and beginning before his friends would have had time to say anything. Unable to do anything else, Harry clung to a nearby root, hoping that Ron and Hermione were okay, and that he wasn't about to be shaken right off the surface of the Earth.


	2. Thought You Ought to Know

Thought You Ought to Know

Hermione's eyes were squeezed shut, her knees pulled tightly to her chest. The shaking stopped, just as quickly as it began. Slowly, Hermione opened her eyes, wiping liquid away from them without thinking. Had she been crying? She supposed that was acceptable after what she had just gone through. She had just enough time to see that the three sides of herself that were in her line of sight were obscured by short walls of some sort when she heard a loud roar and ducked her head as the short walls came crashing down around her.

This time when Hermione looked up, the sight of a fully-grown mountain troll greeted her. Instinctively, she scooted away from it, nearly hitting her head on the toilet behind her. _Wait, toilet?_ Hermione thought, thoroughly confused. Why was she in a bathroom with a troll? And then she remembered. She had been in this situation before. But she'd been a first year then. She was older now. If she could survive the first time, surely she wouldn't have any trouble this time. Why would somebody try to recreate that moment?

The troll roared again and raised its mighty club before Hermione had much time to ponder over all of the questions that were forming in her head. She screamed and rolled to her left, just barely dodging the swinging weapon.

"Hermione!" exclaimed the voice of a young boy.

Hermione gasped. What was a boy doing in a girl's bathroom? Assuming she was in a girl's bathroom. More importantly, what was a young boy doing in a bathroom with a troll?

"Run!" ordered Hermione, in a voice that was clearly not her own. Her eyes went wide and she started to clear her throat, nearly avoiding a collision with the club once again. "Get out of here!" she said, more to test out her voice than to warn the young boy that time. It still wasn't quite right. It was familiar, surely, but distinctly not hers.

Deciding that rolling around in a broken bathroom stall probably wasn't the best way to fight a troll, Hermione stood up, immediately noticing that her eyes weren't as far off the ground as they should have been. She looked down at her feet, subconsciously hoping that she had forgotten to straighten her knees all the way or something, and saw that she was wearing her Hogwarts uniform. How long had she been wearing that?

"Hermione!" the young boy's voice said again.

She looked over in the direction of the voice and screamed. "That's not possible," claimed the voice that distinctly wasn't Hermione's.

"No time to worry about that now! Get out of the way, I'm going to stun him, and I'm not sure which way he'll fall!" said 11-year-old Harry Potter. 11-year-old Ron was beside him, apparently at a loss for words.

Deciding that the crazy troll probably was their biggest problem in the short term, Hermione ran over to her young friends on legs that were definitely shorter than the ones she had gotten used to.

"Stupefy!" Harry exclaimed. The troll swayed back and forth before finally falling onto his back with a loud thud.

With their giant friend out of the way, Hermione ran to a mirror and screamed at the sight of her first year reflection.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" asked Ron.

"I don't know, but we need to stay calm. We'll sort this out. Professor Dumbledore will know what to do," insisted Harry.

"Was my hair really this big?" asked Hermione.

Harry and Ron exchanged glances just as the bathroom door opened, and Professor McGonagall walked in followed by Snape, and then, of all people, Professor Quirrell. All three teenagers in children's bodies gaped at the third arrival. He was dead; he died nearly 5 years ago.

"What's going on?" Harry demanded immediately.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking that question?" asked a clearly-furious McGonagall.

"We don't know what happened!" exclaimed Hermione. "We just… appeared here like this."

"Miss Granger!" McGonagall said, suddenly surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I just told you, I don't know, Professor! There was this bright light, and then we just ended up here."

"Do I look stupid to you, Miss Granger? I want the truth. I'm very surprised at you for lying. Why would three first year students come after a troll by themselves? Attempting to prove your bravery perhaps?"

"That was years ago, Professor," said Harry. "We weren't looking for this troll. Hermione's telling the truth, we don't know how we got here."

"Years ago?" McGonagall repeated. "You children are speaking nonsense."

"Clearly nonsense is going on here!" Ron spoke up, gesturing to his child's body.

"What's he doing here?" Harry asked coolly, glaring at Quirrell. "How is he even still alive?"

"If you three are trying to avoid trouble by confusing us, it's not going to work," said Snape. "It's no wonder none of you are in Slytherin. Your manipulation skills are poor at best."

"Why are you doing this? Clearly we have a serious problem!" Harry exclaimed, frustrated. Why wouldn't his teacher's help him? And how was it possible that Voldemort's dead servant was standing right in front of them? Surely the two things had to be related. "What have you done to them?" Harry demanded of Quirrell.

"I c-can assure y-y-you I've got n-no id-dea what you're r-referring t-to Mister P-p-potter!" Quirrell stuttered.

"You're not fooling anyone with that act of yours!" said Harry.

"Harry," Hermione whispered.

"How are you still here? You died trying to get the Sorcerer's Stone, I saw you!" exclaimed Harry.

"Wh-what?" asked Quirrell, a look of genuine confusion on his face.

"How do any of you know about the stone?" McGonagall demanded.

"Harry," Hermione whispered again.

"Professor, I think Quirrell has done something to your memory! Try to remember!" Harry said desperately.

"What are you on about, Potter?" Snape sneered.

"Harry," Hermione whispered a third time. "I think it's 1991."

Harry's eyes widened in recognition. So they hadn't just been turned into their first year selves. They'd been transferred back to their first year. Meaning the troll he'd just stunned was the same troll that Ron knocked out years ago, and Quirrell was still alive, and the Sorcerer's Stone still existed. And their problem was even bigger than he thought.

"Now that we're all clear on the date, I believe some detentions are in order, Professor McGonagall?" Snape droned.

"Detention? That's completely unfair!" exclaimed Ron.

"Ron," Hermione warned.

"Oh. Right," Ron replied.

"Professor, may we please speak with Professor Dumbledore?" asked Harry.

"If you think he's going to get you out of trouble, Mr. Potter-" McGonagall began.

"No, this isn't about that. It's really important."

"Is there something wrong?"

"Kind of, yeah."

"You can come by my office and talk about it, after we get this troll business sorted out."

"I really need to speak with Professor Dumbledore, Professor!"

"Might I ask what this is about?"

"I honestly don't think you would believe me if I told you."

"I know you're new to the Wizarding World, Potter, but you would be surprised at the things I would believe. The Headmaster can't be bothered for every little thing, he's a busy man."

Hermione gave Harry a look, willing him not to push it. Harry sighed.

"Okay, Professor. I'll stop by your office later," Harry agreed.

"Now are you three quite done, or are you going to make another attempt at stalling your consequences?" asked Snape in a voice that sounded even more bored than usual.

"P-perhaps the ch-children are j-just stressed after d-dealing with the t-troll?" Quirrell suggested, taking on the persona of someone who sticks up for the students of Hogwarts. A persona that all of them fell for during the first time they were first years, but now seemed so obviously fake that they were unsure how they ever believed it at all.

"Speaking of which, how did three first years manage to take down a fully-grown mountain troll? It's not dead, is it?"

"No, Professor, it's just stunned," Harry replied.

"Stunned?" McGonagall repeated. "I assume you mean knocked out, Mr. Potter. No first year could possibly manage a stunning spell."

"See for yourself, Professor," Hermione suggested. "Show her your wand, Harry. She can see which spell you cast last."

"Oh, right," said Harry as he handed his wand to McGonagall. She took it, but was clearly confused by her young students.

"That's remarkable," McGonagall said, impressed, as she discovered that Harry's wand had, in fact, been most recently been used to cast the stunning spell.

"An older student was showing him the spell and has not been used since, perhaps," suggested Snape.

"They would use their own wand," Ron pointed out.

"Nevertheless, no student should go around chasing trolls," said Snape.

"Well now, there's something I believe we can all agree on," said McGonagall, looking pointedly at the children.

"Of course, Professor," Hermione said agreeably.

"What you three did was very dangerous, that can't be ignored. However, I would be inclined to let you all off with a warning, considering your remarkable success, if it were not for the lies. As it is, I believe a week's detention is more than fair, don't you?"

"Yes, Professor," chorused the youngsters.

"Now, then, let's all get out of here before the troll wakes up. You three should join your housemates in the Gryffindor Common Room," McGonagall said in her authoritative voice. Everybody obeyed, and the bathroom was emptied, save for the unconscious troll.

* * *

As Harry, Ron, and Hermione climbed the staircase to the seventh floor, they tried to piece together everything they knew about their strange situation, but there was so much that didn't add up.

"The last thing I remember is being in the Forbidden Forest," Harry began.

"There was a gnome-crow," Ron contributed.

"And it was glowing," Hermione added.

"Then it started glowing brighter, so we ran," said Harry.

"But it got so bright that I couldn't see anything," Ron continued.

"Then the ground started shaking, and the next thing I knew, I was in the bathroom," Hermione said. "And I think we all remember quite clearly what happened next."

"So, the biggest mystery is what happened before that," Harry concluded.

"Well the hole in our memories has to start somewhere," Hermione pointed out. "It's not as if everything we know started at that moment in the Forbidden Forest."

"So, what do we do?" asked Ron.

"Try to remember something from yesterday. Anything at all, and we'll start to build on that until we can't remember anything else," suggested Hermione.

"I… I remember we were at lunch yesterday," said Harry. "I had the chicken and… green beans? No, wait, potatoes."

"That's right," Ron said, suddenly sounding the most confident he'd sounded since before this crazy mess began. "I had the ham, and then I couldn't decide between the potatoes and the green beans, so I just had both."

"Leave it to you to remember the part of your day that involves food," Hermione teased, in spite of the situation. "I remember I wasn't very hungry, so I just had a sandwich and a salad. Okay, this is a good place to start. What happened next? Every detail you remember."

"Ron was saying that he hadn't started his Charms essay that was due the following day," Harry said, saying the following day in place of today or tomorrow because he wasn't exactly sure how right now fit into play, given that they were years into the past. And he had thought time travel was confusing that one time he and Hermione traveled just a few hours into the past.

"Oh, yeah. And then I asked if you would help me with it, Hermione, seeing as you'd already finished yours," Ron recalled.

"And then I assumed that by 'help,' you'd actually meant 'do it for you,'" Hermione countered, rolling her eyes. "But I agreed to allow you to use my notes."

"And I was eternally grateful!" Ron declared.

Hermione rolled her eyes again, but smiled. At this point, they were climbing their last set of stairs before finding themselves in front of the familiar painting of the Fat Lady, who guarded the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Erm… Does anybody remember the password?" Harry asked.

Ron and Hermione groaned. Of course none of them could remember one of the passwords from their first year. They'd gone through so many in the time that they'd been Hogwarts students.

"Well, now what are we going to do?" asked Ron. "Everyone else in Gryffindor is already inside because of the troll."

"Excuse me, Ma'am," Harry said, addressing the Fat Lady.

"Hello, Dear," the Fat Lady said kindly. "Shouldn't you three you be inside? There's a troll inside the castle, you know!"

"We know, we got a little… sidetracked."

"Very well, give me the password, and head inside, then."

"Well the thing is… We don't exactly remember the password."

"Don't remember the password? I'm sure people have told you how important it is to memorize it! That prefect Percy in the very least has made it his mission to drill the concept into every first year students' head!"

"Yes, ma'am, we're sorry. Can't you let us in? Just this once? You said it yourself, there's a troll."

"I can't let you in without the password! That's the rule! I'm sure they'll clear this troll business up soon, and someone will be up to tell the Gryffindors that it's safe. I'd recommend that you wait here until then."

Harry sighed, defeated, and the trio sat on the top stair, just waiting. Meanwhile, they were displaced in time for some unknown, likely sinister purpose, and had no idea of how to get anyone to help them. It was looking as though they were facing one of their biggest challenges yet.


	3. Journey to the Bottom of the Castle

Journey to the Bottom of the Castle

"Right," Harry said as the three of them waited for somebody to come and let them into the Gryffindor Common Room. "We might as well continue trying to figure this out while we wait. What happened next?"

"We got up from the table and headed to Potions," Hermione replied.

"And I grabbed a roll for the road," Ron added fondly.

"…Right. Anyway, I remember we saw Malfoy and his little bodyguards as we were on the way to class," Harry recalled.

"No," insisted Hermione suddenly. "We saw Neville, don't you remember?"

"Oh no," said Ron, sounding a bit angry. "It was Ginny, snogging Dean in the corridor again! That's completely inappropriate, the way they-"

"Couldn't have been, I'd remember," Harry interjected before he realized what he'd just said. Hermione looked away suddenly, trying to hide the grin on her face.

"What d'you mean you'd remember?" inquired Ron.

"Erm, just that… I mean… You hate it when you see them together! I'm sure it would have been the topic of conversation for the rest of the walk to the dungeons."

"Well, my apologies for being concerned about my little sister! Dean's all wrong for her!"

"That's not what I meant! I agree with you, it's just-"

"Oh, leave the girl alone, both of you!" Hermione interrupted. "This isn't the time, something strange is going on here. We all remember the walk to Potions class differently. Why is that?"

Before either of the boys had time to reply, they could see Professor McGonagall heading up the staircase. They stood, ready to get into the common room so that they could officially settle down somewhere to try and sort out the giant mystery that surrounded them.

"You three again?" McGonagall asked with an exasperated sigh. "What are you doing outside the common room?"

"We, erm, couldn't remember the password, Professor," Harry replied.

"Of course. With everything else that's happened today, I'm not even going to question it. Come on, then."

Professor McGonagall let them into the common room and announced that the castle was safe and troll-free before leaving again.

"What were you three doing with Professor McGonagall?" asked a wide-eyed, youthful version of Dean Thomas.

"I was just wondering that myself," announced the 5th year installment of Percy Weasley.

"Back off, Perce. It's none of your business," muttered Ron.

"Oh, really? Is it Mum's business, then?"

"Nobody likes a snitch," Fred Weasley said as he suddenly showed up to join the group.

"It's no wonder you haven't got any friends," added George Weasley from Fred's side.

Ron sighed. It was incredibly strange to see his family members as they were so many years ago. They seemed so old back when he was a first year, but now that he was mentally older than all three of them were back in 1991, he couldn't get over how childlike they seemed. And under normal circumstances, Percy's threat to tell Molly that he was up to something would have concerned him a great deal. However, things being the way they were, he couldn't care less.

"I was in the bathroom when Professor Quirrell came to warn you all about the troll," Hermione spoke up. "Harry and Ron went to warn me, and that's why we were late coming up to the common room."

Ron supposed that telling everyone the original story from this day during their first year was the easiest thing to do at that point. Why hadn't he thought of that?

"You can spare us the lecture about how we should have told a teacher or something, McGonagall already gave us that one," Harry added, almost coolly. He'd had no real problems with Percy when he was 11. In fact, Percy really seemed to like him. But the Percy he knew from his own time had abandoned his entire family, and Harry with them. Somehow he was unable to resist feeling resentment toward the 15-year-old version because of this.

"We're all a bit tired after all of this excitement, if you will just excuse us…" Hermione covered quickly.

"I didn't know those two were friends with Granger, did you?" asked Fred.

"No, I didn't," replied George. "When did this happen?"

"You know, recently. See you later, then," Ron said quickly. The three of them went off in search of a quiet corner or sitting area before anybody had a chance to say anything else.

"It's a bit strange, seeing them all so young like that," Hermione commented once they were all seated.

"It's a bit strange seeing us so young like this," Ron pointed out.

"Everything about this is a bit strange," Harry clarified.

"Why would somebody mess with our memories of walking to class?" asked Hermione, getting them back on topic. "Why that memory? And why make us all remember it differently?"

"And how do we figure out what really happened?" Harry inquired.

"Why would somebody bother sending the three of us back here in the first place?" Ron wondered.

"What if we all three took turns telling our versions of the walk to class?" suggested Hermione. "Remember, use as much detail as possible."

"I suppose I'll go first, then," Ron offered. "Just to get it over with. There's not much to tell, anyway, the walk is only so long. So we left the Great Hall, I was eating my roll…"

"It's probably safe to skip that part," Harry cut in. "I remember your roll, you got the crumbs all down the front of your robes."

"I remember it too," Hermione confirmed. "What happened next, Ron?"

"Fine, I'll skip the one part of the story that leaves me in a good mood. Anyway, we were headed toward the dungeons. We were almost to the staircase that leads down and… Bloody hell it's so weird to be telling you this story, you were both there!"

"We're all going to have to get used to the fact that, until we get back to our normal time, everything about our lives is going to be extremely weird," Harry pointed out.

"I don't think it's possible to get used to weird, Harry."

"Says the one who didn't just find out that they were a wizard when they were 11."

"Point taken. Anyway, we were almost to the staircase and I saw… her snogging… him on a bench."

"You saw Ginny and Dean kissing," Hermione clarified (purely for the benefit of anyone who wasn't already aware, of course).

"Who's telling the story here?"

"I'm just saying, you may want to work on your use of pronouns. Just a suggestion."

"I'm trying to help us solve a mystery here, not publish a novel!"

"So they were kissing, we get it!" Harry cut in. "Moving on?"

"Thanks, mate," Ron said as Hermione hid a smirk. "So of course, I'm thinking, who knows what that guy's got on his mind? There's no way I'm going to let anyone mess with my sister! So I walked right up to him and told him that,"

"No you didn't, Ron! Don't be ridiculous," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

"How do you know, you don't remember any of this!"

"Ron!"

"All right, fine! But I would have, if that bloody owl hadn't flown into the window and distracted me."

"Hang on," Harry said suddenly. "I remember that owl."

"Really?" Hermione asked. "But then why don't I remember there being an owl?"

"I dunno, but at least more than one of us do," Ron pointed out. "Maybe we've finally found a clue."

"Or maybe somebody's just trying to mess with us," Harry chimed in. "At least 2 of our stories are completely made up. Maybe whoever made up these stories purposefully put a few similarities in the stories so that we would think they were clues, and be off their trail."

"Unfortunately, that makes a lot of sense," Hermione admitted. "But we don't have any other plan at this point. Keep going, Ron."

"Well, the owl distracted… them as well. Scared them, actually. They looked up, and saw us standing there for the first time. From the look of things they hadn't exactly been coming up for air much. You were whispering at me to get away from them, Hermione, and I think you were just kind of standing there, Harry. Anyway,… she started yelling at me for spying on them or something like that. Which is completely ridiculous! She's the one who was snogging in a corridor that I just happened to be taking to get to class. It's not like I follow her around or try to catch her-"

"You're digressing," Hermione cut in.

"Whatever. So she stormed off. I think she was kind of embarrassed, but anyone who's willing to snog out in the open like that shouldn't be surprised when people walk by and see them."

"Then I think it's safe to say that you wouldn't have been the slightest bit embarrassed had the situation been reversed," Hermione muttered.

"So they both walked off and then…," Harry prompted quickly, trying to move things along before his two best friends got into a row about Lavender Brown.

"No, just her. He awkwardly stayed behind. I think her leaving caught him by surprise, and he didn't realize what was happening before it was too late to follow her without it being awkward. Of course, it was awkward regardless. He just sort of said 'hi' to us quickly and then walked off," Ron continued.

"Poor Ginny," Hermione said with a sigh.

"Poor me!" Ron disagreed.

"Anything else, Ron?" Harry asked, not wanting to talk about Ginny and Dean's relationship any longer than he had to.

"Not much," Ron replied. "I was wondering what Dean could possibly see in her anyway, and Hermione was telling me I was being mean. But we weren't far from the classroom, so there's not much left to tell."

"Okay, that's one story down. So far we know that there was an owl in both Ron's story and Harry's story that ran into a window, but I don't remember there being an owl at all," Hermione recapped.

"So in conclusion, we know nothing," Ron said, insightfully analyzing the data.

"We have two stories to go, maybe we'll figure something out. I'll go next," Harry volunteered. "We left the Great Hall, and Ron was eating his roll."

"Thanks, Harry. Acknowledging it is all I ask."

"We were heading toward the dungeons, and we hadn't gotten very far when we heard the voice of the little blonde devil behind us. He had his oversized, pea-brained bodyguards with him as usual."

"Typical Malfoy, he wouldn't dare try to act tough without them around," Hermione commented.

"Right. So we tried to ignore him, as usual, but he seemed pretty insistent on having a conversation. You know how he gets sometimes." His friends nodded. "It wasn't much of a conversation, of course. Pretty one-sided. He was saying something about how Slughorn is some crazy old fool, and has no idea how his misjudgments are going to come back to haunt him. He's gone completely insane just because he isn't wanted in the Slug Club. And this is just further proof that Malfoy is a Death Eater!"

"Harry-"

"Come on, Herminoe! He was basically threatening Slughorn! You said yourself that he wouldn't try to act tough without Crabbe and Goyle around. Well he'd have nothing to back up a threat toward a teacher without Voldemort behind him, or at least a few Death Eaters!"

"An empty threat! It had to have been. He has to say something, he's Malfoy. He's never going to just let the whole Slug Club thing go."

"Slug Club. What a bunch of rubbish," Ron muttered.

"Of course it is! What does Slughorn know?" Hermione said quickly. "But it's not rubbish to an insecure guy like Malfoy. His father's money and status is all he has, and now that his father is in prison, they won't get him anywhere. He has to feel in charge somehow, so he threatened Slughorn. Behind Slughorn's back might I add."

"When did you become such a psychiatrist, Hermione?" asked Ron.

"It's just about putting yourself in another person's shoes, Ronald. You should try it sometime," Hermione snapped.

"What did I s-"

"Look. All I'm saying, Harry, is that Malfoy doesn't seem like a likely candidate for being a Death Eater. Even if he is, nobody will listen unless you get some actual solid proof. Besides, this encounter with Malfoy might not have even happened, remember?"

"Fine," Harry said reluctantly. "Whether or not Malfoy is a Death Eater really isn't important right now anyway. So Malfoy said his bit and left in the direction of the dungeons, we rolled our eyes at him and waited for him to get far enough ahead before we started moving again. That's when the owl flew into the window."

"The crazy bird reminded me of Errol," Ron commented.

"Me too," Harry admitted. "But then that girl ran to the window to get him. You probably remember her, Ron."

"No, I don't remember any girl. Just the owl."

"There was just the owl running into the window, and then nothing? Nobody opened the window?"

"No, he fell a few feet and then flew off."

"Nobody went to check on it?" Hermione asked, horrified. "Well now we know Ron's story is fake. If there was nobody else checking on the poor thing, I certainly would have!"

"That's true," Ron said, sounding relieved. Presumably he was thrilled to think that this particular make out session between his sister and Dean was a work of fiction. "The founder of spew would never leave a clumsy bird unattended."

"It's not spew! It's… Oh never mind. Tell us about this girl, Harry."

"It was a Hufflepuff from our year. Hannah," Harry replied with a shrug.

"Hannah Abbott?" Hermione asked, suddenly excited.

"Uh, yeah."

"She's in my story too!"

"Really? That's great! Another possible lead."

"So, what does that mean? That we have to talk to Hannah? What could she possibly know about all of this?" Ron asked.

"Okay, so none of our leads are very strong. But at least we're figuring something out! I mean we've only been in this situation for a few hours now," Hermione pointed out.

"And once we explain all of this to Professor McGonagall, she'll get Dumbledore to help us," said Harry.

"What makes you think McGonagall will believe us? We're going to sound crazy to her," Ron said.

"She'll listen to us, Ron. She has to." Of course their professor would believe them. She'd never let them down before, right?


	4. Step By Step

Step By Step

The next morning, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were on their way to Professor McGonagall's office. Hermione had recounted her story the night before, about how they had stopped in the corridor on their way to Potions to help Neville, whose book had somehow sprouted wings and was flying around a few feet out of reach. According to Hermione, Hannah walked by and lent a hand as well. However, none of this was ringing any bells with either Harry or Ron. Trying to put together the events of their last day they spent in 1996 didn't seem to be helping much, especially because their memories had, apparently, been tampered with. Their only plan at that point was to request help from their professors.

"Okay. So we're just going to go in there and say, 'hey Professor, we need to talk to Professor Dumbledore about being sent back to the future?' Oh, this is never going to work!" Hermione exclaimed. There was no way anyone was going to believe them. They sounded crazy.

"Of course it will! She'll have to believe us. We're sixth year students, remember? We can do things that no first year student could ever dream of mastering. We broke into the Ministry of Magic and fought Death Eaters!" Harry pointed out.

"You're right, Mate," Ron agreed. "We can prove it, Hermione."

"Even if we do prove it, I'm not so sure that this is a good idea."

"What are you saying? We need their help! We have no idea what's happening to us right now."

"I know but… Harry do you remember what I told you when you and I used the time-turner to go back and time to save Witherwings and Padfoot?"

"Erm… Not really," Harry admitted. "But this isn't like that Hermione, we can't just lay low for a few hours to catch back up with our own time! We are our past selves this time! And we're years away from our own time!"

"But we've still gone back in time! Dangerous things happen when people meddle with time. What if we change something here in the past, and then the entire future, our present, is messed up?"

Harry stopped short. He hadn't really thought about that. Who knew what would happen if they changed something important? And who knew what sort of event would be considered important at some point in the future? But they had to get back to their own time somehow. They had to do something. This was one problem that time alone could not fix. And they had no idea how to fix their situation by themselves.

"So, what do you suggest?"

"I think we're going to have to figure this out on our own. That's the only way. If anyone found out that we're from the future, who knows what could happen? And who knows what we'd do if we gave ourselves the opportunity?"

"What do you mean? I'm not trying to ruin the future!" Ron exclaimed.

"We were all very tired last night when we went straight up to bed, so perhaps you forgot, but Scabbers is still up in your room, Ron."

Harry and Ron's jaws dropped.

"Hermione…"

"Harry, no! You can't!"

"He's the reason my parents are dead, the reason why Sirius went to Azkaban! Why he's there right now!"

"I know but-"

"Sirius could be free! He could still be alive!"

"I'm sorry, Harry, we just can't-"

"We've been given the opportunity to save an innocent man! Just like last time!"

"This isn't like last time-"

"WHY NOT?" Harry shouted, suddenly angry.

"Calm down, Mate-" Ron chimed in.

"AFTER EVERYTHING HE'S DONE FOR ME! AFTER EVERYTHING MY PARENTS DID FOR ME! I OWE THEM!"

"Please keep your voice down, Harry! We're all upset and confused," Hermione said quickly, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"It's too big a risk, Mate. We could ruin everything."

"My life couldn't get any worse!" Harry retorted angrily, though somewhat more calmly.

"You don't mean that!" Hermione exclaimed, reaching out her hand to place it on Harry's shoulder.

Harry swatted the hand away before storming off, leaving his two best friends staring after him, the bushy-haired one with tears flowing silently down her cheeks.

* * *

"Thank you, Madam Pince," Hermione said before heading off in the direction of the shelf the librarian had suggested to her. She and Ron had decided that Harry needed some space for a while, so she decided to do what she always did when faced with a difficult problem; go to the library.

Thankfully, Hermione started checking books out of the library for the purposes of her own entertainment and curiosity ever since she first arrived at Hogwarts. Therefore, Madam Pince didn't think anything of it when the first year came to her asking about books on time travel. She probably thought it was a normal thing for a muggle born who had just found out about magic to be curious about.

With a stack of books in her arms, Hermione made her way over to one of her favorite tables and cracked open the first cover.

* * *

"So…" Ron muttered awkwardly. He sat on his bed, seemingly alone in the first year boys' dormitory, facing his pet rat, which was in its cage on the bedside table. He didn't know how he felt about having a caged Death Eater for a pet. One thing was for sure; they weren't listed as one of the acceptable animals to bring to Hogwarts. Then again, neither were rats.

"I sort of wish that spell had turned you yellow," Ron admitted. Now that he knew what his pet really was, he would very much enjoy tormenting him with some spells that his brothers taught him. Of course, he couldn't let on that he knew Scabbers was really the no-good animagus Peter Pettigrew. He might try to escape. Sure, they were supposed to allow him to do that anyway, but not for a couple more years.

Ron turned away from the ugly little creature, feeling slightly sick to his stomach at the thought that he would be acting as caregiver to a Death Eater until he was able to return to his own time. He wondered if Pettigrew had any idea that his old master was somewhere in the castle, looming on the back of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's head. The thought was unnerving to Ron. He had no desire to go anywhere near that man during their stay in 1991, but they would have to go to classes, starting Monday at least. They didn't want to call the wrong attention to themselves, or change anything by accident.

* * *

Fresh air filled Harry's lungs as he walked along the Hogwarts grounds, trying to clear his head. He felt bad about the argument he had gotten in with Hermione, but for now, he just needed to calm down and come to terms with everything.

Everything Hermione had said was right, as usual. There was so much crazy stuff going on with them already. They didn't need to add messing with time to their list of worries. But Ron was going to have to keep that filthy rat out of his sight, or he was liable to snap.

So Harry, Ron, and Hermione had to figure out what was going on, possibly who was behind it, fix the problem all on their own, and, in the meantime, make sure they weren't doing anything that might change the future or allow anyone to figure out what was going on. And, apparently, resist slipping a little rat poison into a certain rodent's cage. Not to mention that Lord Voldemort himself was limiting a certain professor's privacy. But that could be put off for a while. After all, 11-year-old Harry had stopped them back when he was, well, 11, and he hadn't even fully known what was going on then. Besides, they would hopefully be back in their own time before that became an immediate issue.

* * *

"There you two are!" said Hermione as she joined Harry and Ron at their table in the Gryffindor Common Room. "I just ran into McGonagall in the corridor."

"Let me guess. Detention for missing classes today?" Ron asked, not really caring one way or the other. He would go through the motions of pretending to be his first year self, but that was just it. It felt like acting, like he was living somebody else's life. Getting in trouble for a few cut classes during his time in 1991 didn't feel like it really counted for anything. Hopefully, he wouldn't be there for much longer anyway.

"That's fine," Harry said absentmindedly, sharing Ron's view on the situation.

"Actually, no. We're not in trouble."

This news interested Harry and Ron somewhat.

"Is she sick?" asked Ron?

"She isn't onto us, do you think?" Harry asked.

"No, she's clueless. She's just worried about us is all."

"Worried? What for?"

"Well we were acting so strangely yesterday, and today we missed classes…"

"So, basically, we need to start acting like normal first years again so that she doesn't get suspicious," Ron chimed in.

"Exactly. I just made up some excuse about the troll incident shaking us up a bit, but we're doing better now and we won't be missing any more classes. She said that we'd better not miss any more classes but we should remember that we can come talk to her if we feel we need to."

"Fair enough."

"In the meantime, we have the weekend to work on our little mystery."

"Not the entire weekend," Harry said. "Quidditch practice," he added in response to Hermione's look.

"Oh, I forgot about Quidditch."

"Of course you did," Ron commented.

Hermione ignored him. "I suppose you can't skip that, McGonagall will really get concerned then. We'll just have to work around your schedule. Ron and I can continue working while you're away. We don't have much of a plan yet anyway, mostly I've just been doing research in the library."

"Of course you have," said Ron.

"Have you found anything useful?" Harry asked.

"Not yet," Hermione replied. "But there are loads of books on time travel in the library. I'm sure I'll find something soon."

"We can use my invisibility cloak to sneak into the restricted section if we need to."

"No we can't."

A puzzled look spread across Harry and Ron's faces. "Why not? We've done it before," Harry pointed out.

"You don't have your invisibility cloak. You got it for Christmas, remember? It's only the 1st of November."

Harry sighed and put his face in his hands. He'd forgotten that he was down basic resources that he'd almost begun to take for granted back in his own time. How were they supposed to sneak around the castle without the cloak? Surely their investigations would require a bit of sneaking at some point. They always did. Thankfully he'd memorized many of the secret passageways off of the Marauder's Map, another item he no longer had at his disposal, but it would still be nice to have it to keep track of people.

"It'll be nearly two months before I get the cloak. I don't want to be here for 2 months, but this is going to be tough without it."

"It's alright, Mate. We don't need it for anything yet anyway," Ron said with a shrug.

"We should just take this one step at a time anyway," Hermione suggested. "I think this is way too big a problem to try and sort out all at once. In fact, if we're being honest with ourselves, I think we're all pretty sure that we'll still be here when that invisibility cloak gets delivered on Christmas."

"Not you, you went home for Christmas that year."

"That's right, I did. My parents are expecting me to go home! Maybe I can just tell them I'd rather spend Christmas with my new friends. They'll understand, right?"

"As much as I'd love to have you here helping us out, Hermione, we're trying to change the past as little as possible, remember?" said Harry.

Hermione sighed. "I know. I just hate the idea of having to leave you guys in the middle of the investigation."

"We have a couple of months before then," Ron replied.

"Who knows where we'll be by the time you leave? Maybe you'll be able to bring some stuff home to work on," Harry suggested.

"I'll do what I can, of course. I won't be able to do any magic, though. That's so annoying! And I'm finally of age, too."

"We shouldn't worry too much about that now, you were right earlier. This thing is too big to focus on all at once."

"One day at a time, then?" Ron asked.

Harry and Hermione nodded. That was all any of them could handle for the time being.


	5. A Walk Down Scrambled Memory Lane

A Walk Down Scrambled Memory Lane

So the three of them tried as best they could to continue with first year business as was usual for them when they were first years, all the while trying to make progress with their nonsensical mystery. Unfortunately, not really having much of a place to start, all they could really do for the time being was research. This was just fine for Hermione, who was almost always seen with her nose in some book anyway. However, Harry and Ron had to be a bit sneakier. After all, one of Percy's favorite jokes (of which there were very few) involved him questioning his youngest brother's ability to read. Harry could recall reading _Quidditch Through the Ages_ as a first year, and so he used a clever cover-switching trick he'd implemented with his Potions book back in his own time. Ron, however, not being one to read for recreation, or even schoolwork for that matter, was unable to read through the library books without attracting suspicion and therefore was tasked with chasing any little lead they had, no matter how small.

The first (and, admittedly, only) item on the list was Hannah Abbott and a clumsy little owl that may or may not have belonged to her. Because none of the three had any idea what Hannah or the owl could possibly have to do with anything, Ron had no idea about how to go about investigating them. Harry and Hermione were both too busy to help him figure it out, however, so it looked as though he was on his own.

Not knowing what else to do, Ron decided to invite Hannah on a little stroll around school grounds so that they could speak in private. She seemed surprised by the invitation, but agreed to meet him in the Paved Courtyard later that afternoon. As she walked away down the corridor, she and her friend Susan turned toward each other and started giggling. Ron, not knowing what was so funny, blushed a little behind the ears.

* * *

"You asked her to go for a walk with you?" Hermione said suddenly, looking up from the book she'd been skimming through. That was the first time she'd looked up since Ron came to the library to inform her of his game plan (of which there was very little to tell, but still). "Since when are you into private little strolls around the grounds?"

"Er… Since I didn't know how else to figure out Hannah's involvement with our little problem?" Ron replied, taken aback by Hermione's sudden interest in what he'd been saying.

"There are other ways to have a conversation with someone!"

"Not very private ones! Why does it matter?"

"It doesn't! I have to get back to work. You should probably go figure out what you're going to say to Hannah during your little sight-seeing expedition."

Without another word, Hermione returned to her book and a bewildered Ron left the library to go meet up with Hannah.

* * *

"Hey, Ron!" Hannah Abbott said a little too quickly. She seemed to become self-conscious of this and blushed a little.

"Oh, hey, Hannah," Ron replied. "Er, thanks for meeting me."

"Sure, thanks for the invitation."

"Sure. So… Should we get going, then?"

"Sure."

The pair of them started walking,

"So, Hannah," Ron began, not really sure how to ask any of the questions he'd come up with without them sounding really strange. "Do you have an owl by any chance?"

"An owl?" Hannah repeated, clearly not expecting the question. "I've got a little barn owl. Pepper." she replied, grinning somewhat shyly at the name. "Um, have you got an owl?"

"Nah, I've got a rat."

"Oh! Well I'm sure it's… adorable."

"Bloody bit of rubbish, actually. But anyway, the reason I asked is because the other day I saw an owl that was a little clumsy, and somebody said they thought it was yours."

"Oh. Um, yeah, it was probably mine," she said, blushing again.

"Not that there's anything wrong with a clumsy owl," Ron said quickly. "My family's owl, Errol, is always flying into windows and stuff."

Hannah giggled. "He sounds funny."

Ron shrugged. "He's going to knock himself out one of these days. But tell me about Pepper. Is there, I don't know, anything unusual about him? Maybe he delivers letters really fast? Almost like he can travel through time? Or something."

"Um, not that I've noticed, no. And she's a she. I got her for my birthday last year, for writing home to my parents while I'm at school. She seems, you know, like an owl who is affected by time the normal way."

Ron nodded. He'd been expecting that, but he figured there was no harm in asking. "So, have you met anyone strange lately?"

Hannah raised an eyebrow. "Has anyone ever told you you ask some pretty weird questions?"

"It's the best way make interesting conversations," Ron explained quickly.

"I suppose you have a point. But no, I'm afraid I haven't met anyone strange lately. Not that I can think of, anyway."

"Anyone new then? Somebody you hadn't seen around the school before?"

"Well, I thought I saw somebody I didn't recognize at the Hufflepuff table the other day, but it turns out that Heather Mason just got a haircut. What about you? Meet anyone strange or new lately?"

"I saw Crabbe and Goyle pigging out in the Great Hall the other day if that counts."

"So, somebody repulsive, then."

"Repulsive and pathetic. So Hannah, do you have any experience with time travel?"

"Where do you come up with these?" Hannah asked with a giggle. "No, I've never traveled through time."

"Don't, if you can help it. It may sound fun, but it's actually a lot of work trying to make sure you don't accidently screw up the future or something."

"Um, thanks, Ron. I'll… I'll keep that in mind."

"Good. Well, I guess we'd better start heading back. Dinner will be starting soon."

Hannah nodded, almost seeming a little disappointed that their walk had to be cut a bit short, and the two of them started heading back the way they came. After a moment or two, Hannah began to speak.

"Your research won't do you any good, you know. This magic is more powerful than even you three can break."

Ron stared at her, open mouthed. She knew. She knew all about their problem. But how? What was her role in all this? She continued, smiling at the expression on Ron's face.

"If you want to know what you have to do to get home, the three of you should come to the Quidditch Pitch tomorrow night just before midnight, under the Hufflepuff stands. Further instructions will await you there."

"How do you know that? Who the bloody hell is responsible for this?" Ron demanded.

Hannah looked the most confused she had all night. "What are you talking about, Ron?"

"You just said-"

"I didn't say anything, Ron. Are you feeling okay? Should I walk you to the Hospital Wing?"

"No! Erm, no, I'm fine. Sorry, I must be going crazy from the hunger."

Hannah looked genuinely concerned. "You're sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine. I swear."

Hannah seemed unconvinced, but allowed the subject to drop for the remainder of their walk.

* * *

"She had no memory at all of what she said?" Hermione asked after Ron recounted the details of his and Hannah's walk. The two of them plus Harry were sitting by the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room, far enough away from other people that they could talk quietly without being overheard.

"Either that or she was doing a bloody good job pretending not to. She looked at me like I'd gone mad or something," Ron replied.

"Wait, you're saying you haven't gone mad?"

"Shut up, Harry."

"So that means Hannah must have somehow been possessed! By whoever's behind all of this," Hermione deduced, ignoring her male companions.

"You really just came out and asked her if she had a time-traveling owl?" Harry asked.

"Well, I didn't know what to do!" Ron exclaimed defensively. "How would you suggest I ask a girl if she's got a nutter bird?"

"One thing's for sure, nothing good can come of this little meeting tomorrow night," Hermione continued.

"Whatcha mean?" Ron asked, finally paying attention. "This is the best lead we've gotten so far!"

"Maybe so, but it sounds like our anonymous enemy is going to have some sort of demands that we'll have to obey if we want to get back home."

"That's a good thing, isn't it? We'll finally know what we need to do to get out of here!"

"But whatever these demands are, they can't be anything good! Otherwise why would anybody go through all of this trouble?"

Harry groaned. "That's true. Whatever this person wants us to do, it's probably something we'd never do, no matter what the circumstances. I don't know if we should even show up tomorrow. I mean, doing what this person says probably won't be an option, and we already know how dangerous he is."

"Or she," Hermione added.

"Of course we've got to go!" Ron declared.

"I don't know, Ron. Harry's right, it's too dangerous and it probably won't do us any good."

"We won't know that if we don't go! Maybe we're wrong and it won't be a problem. And we know this person isn't going to hurt us. Whoever it is wants something from us. If he-or she-wanted to kill us, he-or she, Hermione, sorry-already would have."

"Fair point, Ron," Harry admitted. "So, I guess we should go. The only problem now is figuring out how to get out of the castle without getting caught."

"Leave that to me," Hermione said dismissively. Harry and Ron exchanged glances, but didn't question her.

"So, now we just have to talk about Quidditch," Harry said.

"That's right, your first match is tomorrow! I forgot," Hermione exclaimed.

"Of course you did," said Ron.

"Honestly, are you going to say that every time I forget about a Quidditch thing?"

"You're planning on doing that more times?"

"So… I guess you'll just be ready to set Quirrell on fire when he starts jinxing my broom, Hermione? You managed to keep me from dying last time, and I'd appreciate it if we were to pull that off again," Harry said.

"No, I'll be setting Snape on fire," Hermione replied.

"But Snape didn't jinx Harry's broom, even if he is a twat," Ron interjected.

"We know that now, but back then, or back now I guess-"

"Back tomorrow."

"…Thanks, Ron. Anyway, I thought it was Snape, so he's the one I set on fire the first time, so I'll have to do it again this time."

"That's just as well. He may not have jinxed my broom, but I wouldn't mind seeing him go up in flames," Harry commented.

"Here here! Looks like we've got tomorrow taken care of, then," said Ron.

"Almost. Do you two remember what we did after the game?" Hermione inquired.

"We… had a big party in Harry's honor?" Ron tried.

"We went to Hagrid's for tea," Hermione clarified.

"So we'll go have tea with Hagrid," Harry stated simply. "I'm sure we can all pretend to be normal first years long enough to fool him."

"That's not what I was worried about. It's just that that was the day he told us about Fluffy and Nicolas Flamel."

"And we're going to have to get him to do that again, even though Hagrid will be upset with himself over it and we already know about Nicolas Flamel and don't particularly want to have a conversation about that terrifying, disgusting beast," Ron said, catching on.

"Well, pretty much. Yes," Hermione confirmed. "It'll be fine. I know we can figure it out."

"It probably won't be the most complicated part about the day," Harry pointed out. "You're sure you know a way to sneak us out of the castle, Hermione?"

"Of course I'm sure. You probably ought to get to bed; you have Quidditch tomorrow and the pressure's on for you to catch that snitch. You don't want to change history and let Slytherin win."

"Now that, I can handle."


	6. A Game to Remember

Disclaimer: Quidditch commentary was taken directly from "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" by JK Rowling.

A Game to Remember

"Slow down a bit, Harry!" Hermione whispered from across the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.

"Me?" Harry asked, perplexed. "I don't think Ron has taken a breath since we got to breakfast."

"Hab zo!" Ron exclaimed defensively, his mouth full of eggs.

"Chew, Ronald. Then talk," Hermione advised before turning back to Harry. "You're a first year about to play in your first ever real Quidditch match. Something tells me you wouldn't likely have much of an appetite."

"But I'm hungry," protested Harry.

"Honestly, Harry! Here. You gnaw nervously on this bit of toast and I'll sneak some fruit into your pocket before you go that you can snack on when nobody's looking."

"You're a lifesaver, Hermione, you know that?"

"All right there, Potter?" Oliver Wood asked from behind the ersatz nervous 11-year-old boy. "I see you've gone for the toast this morning. Not much of an appetite, eh?"

"I'm a bit nervous," Harry falsely admitted.

"Don't be, you've been doing brilliantly in practice! I was just saying to Katie how much you've improved just within the last week or so!"

"Thanks, Wood. I just hope it'll be enough to beat Slytherin."

"Slytherin's not so tough. Mostly talk, really. Just watch out for their Beaters, they like to play dirty."

"Thanks, Wood," Harry said in the sarcastic voice of a boy who was not particularly reassured.

"Seriously though, make sure you eat something. I'll not lose a game just because my Seeker passed out from hunger. See you later, then!"

Harry offered up a half-hearted smile to Wood as he walked off to eat his own breakfast.

"You were right about the toast, Hermione. As usual."

Hermione beamed but held down the 'I told you so.'

* * *

Not long afterward, Harry was gathered with the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, getting ready to start the match. Wood was giving the team his idea of an inspirational speech, and Fred and George were saying the lines before Wood would get a chance. Because they'd been on the team the year before, the twins knew the speech by heart. Even as a 16-year-old, Harry still found this funny.

Finally, it was time to step out onto the field, where practically all of the students of the school were cheering at the top of their lungs. Harry could remember that, as a first year, he was worried about his nerves causing his knees to give way. Now, his only concern was whether or not Hermione would get to Snape before his broom flung him to the ground, and even that wasn't much of a concern. She did it the first time, and that was when she wasn't even expecting it. So really all he had to worry about was catching the snitch, just like in any other game.

Harry looked up to the Gryffindor stands to find his friends, and found that they weren't hard to spot. They were with Neville, Seamus, and Dean, as they had been originally, and they had the familiar 'Potter for President' banner that they'd made for Harry as a surprise. They waved down at their favorite Gryffindor seeker and Harry waved back before sending Hermione a thumbs up, wishing her luck on her mission.

The match was about to start, so all fourteen players, half in scarlet, half in green, gathered around Madam Hooch, the referee.

* * *

"I do hope Harry will be all right!" Hermione exclaimed, playing the role of an uptight first year for Neville, Seamus, and Dean's benefit.

"Stop worrying, Hermione, he'll be fine!" Ron declared, playing along.

"Don't people usually attack the Seekers more than anybody?" asked an anxious Neville. This version of Neville was so much more timid than the one that fought alongside Harry, Ron, and Hermione at the Ministry of Magic. Hermione found it kind of cute.

"Of course, the team that catches the Snitch almost always wins," Seamus said matter-of-factly. Neville seemed to grow even more nervous.

"Oh, calm down, Neville. Nobody's been killed in a Quidditch game in years," Dean stated reassuringly.

"There you are, Ron! Mind if I join you all?" exclaimed Hannah Abbott, who seemingly appeared out of thin air.

"Hannah!" said a surprised Ron. "What are you doing here? I… thought you'd be sitting with your Hufflepuff friends."

"It's no secret that everyone here is rooting for Gryffindor! Well, everyone except the Slytherins that is. I figured it'd be all right."

"Why didn't you tell us about your little girlfriend, Ron?" Seamus teased. Dean laughed, Hannah blushed, Ron grew red behind the ears, Neville smiled shyly at Hannah, and Hermione shot Dean an angry look.

"I'm not sure if that's allowed, Hannah-" Hermione began.

"Oh, nobody's gonna know! All of the teachers are over there," Dean pointed out.

"Sure, Hannah. You're welcome to join us," Ron said, not knowing what else to say but feeling pretty certain that he was going to get a telling off about it later from Hermione for changing the past or something.

* * *

Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and fourteen kids on broomsticks shot high into the air. Harry stayed slightly above the action, like Wood told him to, so that he wouldn't be attacked before he caught sight of the Snitch. The rest of the players, however, wasted no time in going at it. Recalling that he had a little time before anyone would see the Snitch, Harry pulled an apple out of his pocket and began to munch while he watched the familiar events unfold below him.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve-" Lee Jordan, a friend to the Weasley twins and the commentator for the school Quidditch matches, was saying.

Harry made slow circles around the pitch as he watched and ate, all the while feeling nostalgic to be back on his old Nimbus 2000. It was the first broom he ever owned, and he'd been very fond of it. Discovering that it had been broken beyond repair during a match in his third year had hurt worse than the aftermath of the fall he'd taken. Of course, he loved his Firebolt very much, and the fact that it was a gift from his now (or, technically, future)-dead godfather only served to add to its sentimental value. But it was still very nice to be able to interact with one of his favorite possessions from his past, especially considering the fact that he hadn't had too many possessions throughout his childhood worth calling his favorites.

"GRYFFINDORS SCORE!" exclaimed the enthusiastic voice of Lee Jordan after Angelina Johnson scored the first goal of the match.

By way of celebration, Harry threw his arms into the air, accidentally dropping his half-eaten apple as he did so. The juicy bit of fruit fell 100 feet or so, landing on the head of one of Slytherin's Chasers. Harry nonchalantly flew to a different area of the pitch before the chaser could figure out what had happened.

As it turns out, it was lucky that Harry flew over to where he did, for he caught sight of the Snitch almost immediately, right by the ear of Slytherin Chaser Adrian Pucey, who was distracted by the little golden ball and dropped the Quaffle.

Harry dove for the Snitch and within seconds found himself neck-and-neck with Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs. The whole situation gave him a feeling of deja vu, and he remembered what happened next just a little too late. Marcus Flint blocked Harry, spinning him off course. A foul was called, and Gryffindor was allowed a free shot at the goals, but the Snitch had gotten away. Just like last time.

At this point, Harry started hanging onto his broom for dear life, knowing that Quirrell would begin jinxing his broomstick at any moment.

* * *

Hermione knew this as well.

"Pardon me!" she said quickly to the others, including Hagrid, who had joined them in order to get a better look at the game. She left without any explanation, hoping to get over to the stands where the teachers were sitting before Harry had to battle a rogue broomstick for too long.

"Where is she going?" asked Dean.

"I dunno, the bathroom or something maybe?" Ron offered, trying to cover for his fellow time traveller.

"Maybe I should have offered to go with her…" Hannah wondered aloud.

"You girls don't always have to go to the bathroom in packs, you know," Seamus pointed out.

"Well, considering what happened to her on Halloween I'm surprised she feels that way!" Hannah countered.

"Quiet, you lot, somethin's the matter with Harry's broomstick!" Hagrid exclaimed.

Everyone quickly returned their attention to the game.

"Oh my God! What's happened?" asked Neville before he turned and clung to Hagrid.

"Maybe Flint did something to it?" Seamus offered.

"'Course not. On'ly Dark magic can mess with a broom like tha,'" Hagrid said matter-of-factly.

"Poor Harry! Somebody's gotta do something!" Hannah exclaimed.

"Hang on, Harry!" Ron called, trying to play the part of a concerned friend even though he knew Hermione had it covered. He used his binoculars to look over to the teachers' stands where, sure enough, both Snape and Quirrell were concentrated on some sort of spell casting. Although Hermione kept herself well concealed, Ron did see the back of Snape's robes catch fire, and he managed to hold down a snicker, knowing that Harry would be all right.

* * *

Again. How had he managed to do this again?

It seemed as though Hermione had been successful in recreating her rescue plan. Harry had been too busy practicing his rodeo skills to watch for it, but he took the fact that he, once again, had control of his broom to be evidence of his friend's success.

Now, however, he could feel little wings fluttering about his mouth, trying to escape, accompanied by a taste that could only be explained as metallic. Again. It had happened again. He managed to stop his fall this time and pulled up to steady himself before spitting the Golden Snitch into his hands. He rose higher in the air, holding the little golden ball above his head in triumph to the soundtrack of hundreds of cheering voices.

"GRYFFINDOR WINS!" exclaimed an ecstatic Lee Jordan.

* * *

Ten or fifteen minutes later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were gathered in Hagrid's Hut for tea.

"You know who jinxed Harry's broomstick don't you?" Ron was saying, setting the stage for their little conspiracy theory. "It was Snape!"

"Nonsense-" Hagrid began.

"No, really!" Hermione cut in. "I saw him through my binoculars!"

"You weren' even there! Yeh'd ran off!"

"Well, I stopped and watched once I realized what was happening to Harry! Look, I've read about jinxes! I know one when I see one."

"Snape's a teacher! Why would he wan' ter hurt Harry, huh?"

Ron groaned in false frustration.

"He may be a teacher, but he was trying to get passed that three-headed dog on Halloween. That's why he's limping, it bit him!" Harry exclaimed.

"Wait, how do you three know about Fluffy?" Hagrid asked.

Hermione nudged Ron under the table.

"Ow! Er… You call that thing Fluffy?" Ron sputtered.

"Well… yeah. He's mine. Bought him off this stranger I met down at the pub once, and now I'm lendin' him ter Dumbledore to guard the-" Hagrid stopped short, realizing he was getting into a topic that he shouldn't be discussing with his guests.

Hermione nudged Harry under the table.

"Ow! Er… To guard what, Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"No way! Yer not hearing that from me," Hagrid said defiantly.

"Fine! But Snape definitely tried to get passed your Fluffy and he definitely tried to kill Harry today," Hermione claimed.

"You three listen to me. Ain't no way Snape's trying to kill Harry. And you forget about Fluffy, too. That's none of your business, it's between Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel!" Hagrid said.

"Nicolas Flamel?" Harry repeated.

Poor Hagrid sighed and put his head in his oversized hand, wishing he would learn to keep his mouth shut.


End file.
